anme2_82



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    “Phainon,” he gasps, “you are not going to believe this.”

     

    “Believe wh—” He lets out a startled sound as Cicero grips him by the shoulders, staring deeply into his eyes. “The prince—the prince he’s—he’s here!”

     

    Phainon blinks. “Huh?”

     

    “The crown prince of Castrum Kremnos? Mydeimos the Undying, Son of Gorgo, Conqueror of—whatever!” He flails his hands around like a mad man. “He’s in the special lounge for esteemed guests right now and—ugh, Phainon, please take my place!”

     

    “What?” Phainon gapes.

    Struggling to keep up with piling funds and a sick mother, Phainon — a farmer’s son — seeks an education and becomes an apothecary in a famed brothel house. Tending to the wheat fields, taking care of the escorts, and serving drinks because he might as well! So far, his life has been completely normal.

     

    That is, until the Crown Prince of Castrum Kremnos mistakes him for a courtesan.

     

    (Alternatively, a newly debuted Mydeimos is dragged down to a brothel house to cause a scandal and scare off potential brides. He ends up entering into a fake courting with a bewitching courtesan.)

    Language:
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    25 Nov 2025

  2. Public Bookmark 48

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    “Haa.. our schedules have been filled to the brim. I’m not sure what’s happening, but suddenly there’s been a new influx of patients to the point our breaks are getting cut short and the hours only get longer..” Mydei runs a hand through strawberry blonde tresses, yet he didn’t make a move to push Phainon off of his bicep.

    “Not used to the speed?” Phainon hums.

    “No, not at all,” The response comes out in a sigh, with Mydei slumping in his chair. He still eats his dinner as usual, but there’s a subtle lethargy to his movements now that he’s let go of trying to shake it off. “I’m worried I’ll mess something up trying to go faster.”

    “Ah, then..” Phainon pauses for a second, before a cheeky smile emerges on his face. “Why don’t you practice on me?”

    Mydei chokes on his own spit. “Huh?”

    OR

    Mydei, a sonographer, is worried that he will mess up his procedures. Phainon, his loving husband, offers to be practice.

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    1/1
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    17 Nov 2025

  3. Public Bookmark 4

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    28 Sep 2025

  4. Public Bookmark 71

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    Phainon's heart lurches. Whoever they are, they are his only hope. He staggers towards the light, dread clawing at his throat. "Please," he calls out, voice hoarse, barely audible over the pounding in his ears. "Help me, please. I need to hide. I-I can't be seen here."

    The figure freezes, their silhouette sharp against the light. Long hair cascades over their shoulders, and Phainon's drug-addled mind briefly registers an outline of a dress before a calloused hand grabs his throbbing arm, bodily yanking him into the warmth.

    The door slams shut behind them.

    Or; Phainon gets hit by a rut-inducing drug. Mydei offers to fuck it out of him.

    Written for myphaiweek2025 (#Modern AU).

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    English
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    31 Aug 2025